Thursday, October 14, 2004

The Men I’ve Loved = The Man I Love

He had a magnetic pull stronger than the one holding me to the ground. His eyes were filled with an intensity that alternately made it impossible for me to look at them or impossible to look away. He had strong arms and knew how to use them. He read (books). He had never thought to use the phrase “chick flick”. He laughed with his whole being. He taught me something new every day. He made my heart melt and my knees buckle in a crowded room with a single well placed phrase meant for my ears only. He made me feel more beautiful than anyone ever had before. He made me laugh uproariously at myself. He held me responsible for me. His hands were always bigger and warmer than mine in winter. He forgave my idiosyncratic music taste and let me pretend to be a music snob. I felt more at home with him than I had anywhere else. He didn’t give up. He forgave me. We were best friends. He’s still my best friend. He listened, interpreted, applied, agreed or disagreed. He was passionate. I always felt safe when he was around. He wanted to hear my stories. He sang LOUDLY. He didn't care how much weight I gained. He wrote me letters. He raised my expectations for myself. His feedback was appropriate, warranted, helpful. He trusted me implicitly. He made me feel like I was the only person in the room. He knew when to talk and when to let me talk. When I laughed at his jokes, I laughed with joy and love as well as amusement. When we accidentally brushed up against each other it made my stomach jump. He opened doors for me. Sometimes, with good reason, he was really pissed at me. He took me out. He made and executed plans with me in mind. He didn’t know what molasses were. He respected me. We danced whenever and wherever there was music and the mood struck us. He told me when there was junk in my teeth. We travelled to new places together. I wanted nothing more than to see his face at the end of a long day at work. His words, arms, kisses were like soothing balm. His massages were not to weak, not too strong. He understood me. When he cried (and he cried), he leaned into me instead of away. He knew what size I was. He bought my tampons. He was beautiful. He called me "Angel". He gave me the best Christmas present ever. He wanted to look good for me. He let me help. He apologized and meant it. He held me while I slept. He respected some boundaries and tested others. He believed in me. I was an original. He gave me space. He could be objective. We stayed up all night talking. He was the most genuine person I’ve ever known. We developed a telepathic link. We went out together all the time. He loved me.


Anonymous said...

Loved=love. You said it yourself to me once, once you have given your love to someone those feelings don't go away, only change. That said, I don't know how much I agree with the last part of it, as I don't think they change so much as we learn to adapt so as to learn how to live with said love when the one we want to give love to is no longer there to recieve it.

Xtine said...

This is why people continue to amaze me. A human's capacity for relating, embracing and challenging another is one of those incredible details of life. It gives me hope that if it is possible to can find something so genuine with one person that it must exist with someone else somewhere else... the trick is just being in the right place at the right time?